What's in a name
by quezovercoatl
Summary: How a simple conversation about the teams name or lack of it got Rodney an overnight stay in the infirmary.


**Disclaimer:** My plant to win the lottery failed (again) so they are still not mine.

**A/N: **I used 2 lines from the episode First Strike, but nothing that will spoil the episode if you haven't seen it yet.

Thanks go to shootingsilverstarlight for beta'ing this story :-)

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**What's in a name.**

"How is he, Doc?"

"He's got a mild concussion. I'm keeping him in the infirmary overnight for observation.

It'll be good for him to get a good night sleep"

"Can I sit with him for a while?"

"Aye, but don't stay to long." Carson sighed. "I wonder why these things keep happening to you and your team"

"You and me both, Doc."

As he left the room, I started thinking about the events that had caused Rodney to end up in the infirmary… yet again.

The day started so well. The walk to village on PX3-1415 (or Pi-world as Rodney wanted to call it, if I hadn't stopped him from doing so) had been uneventful. No wraith, Genii, alien bugs, weird plants or pollen that caused McKay's allergy's to flair up and it didn't rain either.

The people had been friendly. They didn't have any technology that would be useful to us,

but there was a possibility we could become trading partners, exchanging food for medicine and the like. They invited us to stay for dinner, and since it would be rude to refuse (not to mention the fact that we were hungry) we stayed. There was bread, some local fruits, cheeses and three different kinds of pie. I could see Rodney smirk and mouth the words Pi-world, but I ignored him and started eating instead. The food was amazing, and thankfully completely citrus free, and so was dessert. Since we were guests, we didn't have to help with the cleaning up, so we could just sit by the fire and relax. Life was good. Ronon and Teyla were taking an after dinner nap and Rodney was busy typing on his laptop. Everything had been perfect and I was looking forward to a quiet evening when _'The Conversation'_ had started.

"Why doesn't our team have a name?" he asked suddenly.

I looked up from my study of the campfire flames to Rodney, who was still busy typing on his laptop.

"A name? What do you mean? And what's brought this up all of a sudden?"

He stopped typing and looked at me. "I've been thinking about it since we came back from Earth. All the SGC-teams have names and designations and we don't. We're just 'Colonel Sheppard's Team. I just think we should have a name, like SG-1"

"So that would make us… SGA-1? Or A1? Those aren't names, just numbers. Designations. They don't mean anything."

And they didn't. Numbers didn't make a team. During our enforced stay on Earth, the SGC had assigned some people to me and said we were now SG-whatever. Now, don't get me wrong. It's not like I didn't remember the number, it's more like I didn't care. They were nice people, but they were not my team. My team was right here at the campfire. And even if we didn't have a name, it was far better than the 'team' I had on Earth.

But Rodney didn't look like he was going to drop the subject and so I played along.

"Anyway, if we are going to have a name, it should at least be a cool name," I said, stretching back and getting more comfortable.

"A cool name?" Rodney sounded confused, as if the thought never occurred to him.

"Yeah, because we're a cool team."

"Like?" Rodney sounded sceptical, but intrigued.

"Like, um… the Fantastic Four"

"You want to name us the Fantastic Four?"

"No, but we're cool like them though. Ronon would be The Thing, Teyla would be the Invisible Woman, you'd be the Human Torch and I'd be Mister Fantastic."

Looking at the expression McKay's face, I realized I made a mistake.

"You? Mister Fantastic? Why would you be Mister Fantastic?"

"Erm… Because he's the leader of the team and I'm…"

"Mister Fantastic is a scientific genius. Granted, you do have more then one brain cell up there, but there is only one genius in this team and…"

"So, if you're mister Fantastic," I interrupted him, "does that make me the Human Torch?"

"I guess so. It makes sense. He can fly; you love to fly. You have the same first name too and… why are we even discussing this?"

"You're the one that wanted a name for the team."

"Because we need one."

"No, we don't. We've been doing fine so far without one, haven't we?"

"Well…"

"And what about Star Trek?"

"Star Trek?"

"Their away teams didn't have names either."

"So, you're saying we don't need a name because they didn't have any?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying".

"Then what are you saying?"

"Well…" It's not that I didn't know what I wanted to say, but just that I couldn't think of a way of saying it without getting all touchy feely and I wasn't going there.

And that's when Ronon saved the day, or so I thought at the time.

"Can you keep it down? Some of us are trying to take a nap over here."

Unfortunately, he also thought it was necessary to underline his words with a small rock. He flung the sharp stone in our general direction. It didn't hit us, but it did startle Rodney. He fell backwards and hit his head on a large boulder.

All I could think of while helping to carry the unconscious scientist back to the gate was 'Go figure.'

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"Sheppard?" The scientist was awake but still slightly groggy when I pulled back the curtain surrounding his bed in the infirmary.

"Rodney, how's the head?" I asked cheerfully.

"It hurts, what do you think?"

"That going as far as getting a concussion in order to sleep in a real bed is going a bit far, even for you."

"A real bed? Ha! Do you have any idea what this hospital mattress is doing to my back?"

"No, but I'm sure you can tell Carson all about it. "

"Carson!?!" he yelled. The Doctor poked his head around the curtain, glaring at me for bringing him into this. I blinked back as innocently as I could, but couldn't help the smirk that graced my lips.

"Aye. I take it from your last statement that you're not enjoying our hospitality?"

"Hospitality? More like imprisonment. 'Hospitality' implies that I'm a guest and I can leave anytime I want. But that's not the case, is it?"

"We have to run some tests and if the results are encouraging, you'll be released in the morning."

"See? I'm a prisoner here; you've admitted that yourself."

"I've done no such thing," Carson protested.

"Yes you have," Rodney smirked. "You said I'd be 'released' in the morning. Guests leave, prisoners get released. Plus, there's the fact that you're torturing me by keeping me on this substandard mattress, when I could be sleeping comfortably on my very own prescription mattress in my quarters and you're probably going to blind me by shining that light in my eyes again, aren't you?

Carson ignored Rodney's babble and gently took hold of his patient's chin, reaching for the penlight in his pocket. "You may not like it," he told him "but it's nesecary. I need to check…"

"If my pupils are responding to the light… Blah blah blah. I know this Carson," Rodney complained. "Doesn't mean I have to like it. Besides, there has to be a better way to check it than this. This proves my point about medicine not being a real science. In real science, processes are constantly evaluated and improved upon. This process of using a flashlight to check how dilated your pupils are has probably been going on for decades and still no improvement."

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it," Carson said, tongue firmly in cheek.

"If everyone thought like that, we'd still be living in caves, banging rocks together in a futile attempt to make fire," Rodney snapped. "Besides, I think the real reason it's never been improved upon is that you voodoo doctors actually like blinding your victims."

Carson sighed. "Rodney, you're making it impossible for me to treat you."

"But you're not denying it, are you?" Rodney turned to me and grinned. "You heard that too, didn't you? You can be my witness."

"And piss off the man with the really big needles? I don't think so," I replied, grinning slightly. "Why don't you just cooperate with Carson? You know it has to be done and the sooner you get it over with, the sooner you get some nice painkillers."

"Chicken," he muttered. "All right Carson. Let's get this voodoo examination over with."

"You're going to have to leave now Colonel," Carson told me.

"But…" I started.

"Don't start, Colonel. You're not going to win this one. After the tests are done, Rodney needs to rest. And you need a peaceful night, almost as much as he does."

"_He_ is right here in the room you know!" Rodney protested.

I grinned at Rodney, knowing that if he could complain again, things were looking up.

"Then I guess it's time for me to leave," I said. "I'll stop by in the morning to spring you from jail. And if you're good, I'll even bring you some blue Jell-O."

I turned to walk to the door.

Rodney huffed. "What you mean '_if_' I'm good? And don't think I've forgotten about the conversation we had on Pi-world. I may have hit my head, but I don't have amnesia. Our team should have a name and…"

"Sure thing, buddy," I called over my shoulder as I left.

Rodney was still rambling on when I closed the door behind me. I couldn't stop myself from grinning. I'd been right this morning. Rodney was going be fine. Life was good.

The end.


End file.
